Where Are You Christmas?
by RchHghr
Summary: How can one enjoy Christmas time when everyone is against you? Well, by spending it the same way you did the previous year. Sequel to Something About Christmas Time.
1. Chapter 1

This is a sequal to my story: Something About Christmas Time. Enjoy!

I am late. I am always late, so it doesn't really matter. The fact that I am a little tipsy might be a problem. I am horrible on my feet as it is, so this might make it worse. I'll just have to be extra careful.

I think I can manage this- even though I know I am going to be on trial. I am always on trial just because of who I am.

I enter Grimmauld Place with long, seaweed green hair, and blue eyes. I hope I look like a mermaid, but I probably just look like a fish.

I like it though. I have my hood up because of the wind, and not like a previous time when I looked like my aunt. Nobody wanted to know me then.

At least I can always prove myself loyal to the Order, even if some think my choices are questionable.

Two members are already in a debate. I don't know who exactly.

I stub my toes, and wake the portrait. She screeches threats and blame from her spot in the wall.

I enter into the kitchen and see that mostly everyone is here already, and that the "debate" is between Mundungus and Mad Eye.

Do I care what is its about? Nope. But if Mad Eye is fired up it can't be good.

Everyone's eyes go to me. At least I look like me, and there's no animosity. I can ease my way onto the bench next to Hestia Jones and feel like I actually belong.

"You're not late-well you are, but we haven't started yet. We're waiting for Kingsley, Albus Dumbledore and Remus-" the last part she kind of winces.

"No worries. I can be Professional-sorta."

She recalls recent events at the Ministry and we smile together.

"You're bold," she says and I just shake my head. Unconsciously, I realize that I've stuffed my hair into the hood of my zip-up jacket completely.

I shouldn't have to. I'm better now. Ha. Better now, to the point I can make eye contact with Mad Eye Moody. I know what he is going to say to me. I don't need to hear it on top of seeing Remus tonight.

I look at the people around me; those engaged in their own conversations. My eyes catch Severus Snape's and I give a tiny nod. A while back we had a night together after drinking at a bar. He wanted something I had, and he got it.

A commotion hushes everyone as Albus Dumbledore, Kingsley and Remus enter the room. My heart beat increases- along with the fact that Kingsley holds today's paper in his wrapped hand. He sits next to me. I put a hand on his bandaged one, and he puts his other on top of mine.

"Thank you for your help the other night."

I nod. "Of course."

Albus Dumbledore starts the meeting by taking the newspaper from Kingsley where the headline reads:

They walk amongst us: the guilty, the spies and the untrusting.

Oh great, me! Everyone's eyes go to me, or they could be on Kingsley, even Hestia-no, me.

Oh boy.

"Typical. If we're fighting amongst ourselves they can work above us. Instead of chasing them, we're chasing each other. I for one am getting chased. I'm being watched. I've been followed the last two weeks in my own freaking job. If you've read the article they use the words "careful." They want to be "careful" of those who come from dangerous families."

"I've never gave them any reason to consider me a person to be "watched." I worked hard to get to where I am. I am not going to screw it up now. If my loyalties are not proof by now…" I sit back in a slouch. There is no back to the bench, and I can't sit tall anymore. I don't feel tall, I feel small and keep getting smaller.

Albus, who stands at the head of the table keeps his kind eyes on me. They twinkle. They are understanding and knowing. I don't deserve to be under them, but here I am. He says to me, "I have never had second thoughts about you. I chose you because I know your true heart. I know where you come from, and from which you have grown and learned. I would never doubt you."

I just nod stupidly because that's all I can do. Do I believe him against the mentality of those at the Ministry, and in this room?

"Why the suspension Nymphadora?" Moody pipes in from down the table, and any hope that the conversation would take a different direction disappears fast, and it all stays on me.

Mad Eye Moody has been my mentor since day one. He knows me like a book. He knows me better than myself, and he knows at this exact moment I do not want the attention on me, so I cant understand why he just asked me that question in front of everyone. Only Kingsley and Hestia sort of the know the story-the funny aspects.

I actually feel the pit of my stomach drop out. I wonder what Remus thinks about it. I know he feels nothing for me. He knows my loyalties and respects them, but my feelings and heart, he crushed that into a million pieces. He broke every last feeling I had in me. I have not looked for a real relationship since. I've only sought out quick acts of nothing to fill the void I cannot fill.

Well, except for food.

My eyes go to him. My eyes, my scowl, maybe even some kind of pain is mixed in my disbelief. I was looking for an escape from those with their eyes on me, but I won't get it. "I had a little fun. My fun turned into their nightmare. The end."

The look on Albus Dumbledore's face isn't hard to read at all. He saves me, or him the energy to formulate a come back, or a raised voice, because he continues with other projects the Order has been working on. The conversation actually turns positive because there are moves that push in a positive direction rather than a negative one.

I can't wait to fly out of here. The minute the meeting is over I will be out the door whether on my feet, or on my hands bloody and scraped.

"Nymphadora, can I see you for a moment?" Moody says once the meeting is over. He wants to finish words with another. I agree, even though I really don't want to. I leave the room to talk with Molly and Arthur. Moody comes out and pulls me into another room where no one else is. I put three feet between us. I know why I'm flying off the handle. I don't know why he fueled it, or why he's put me against him. I don't need this. I need reassurance right now, not more poised questions in my direction.

"I knew from day one that you would be a positive aspect to both the Ministry and the Order, but what you did for the last three days has got to be the dumbest thing you could think to do. You gave them a reason to suspect you, and to prove their suspicions. They can use this against you now. You opened the door to your demise."

I'm feeling real heated; partly because of the closed in room, and mostly because of this conversation. I pull my hood down. One glance at the hair down my front makes me relieved to see that its still green.

"Open what door? The door that's always been open? I'm fed up. I'm tired of having to do extra just to be on level with everyone else. They should be happy to have someone as skilled as myself. I bring asset they apparently can't see. They won't have to see my face for nine days."

"You just don't get it." He walks away leaving me there. I should be mad at the accusation, but I feel hurt for all of three seconds before anger returns. I bury it down two levels because I have to meet with Albus Dumbledore.

Molly lifts my spirits. It doesn't take much because she knows how to fix just about everything.

Except me for long. The feeling leaves because I have to say something to Remus. I have to greet him somehow. He's talking to Kingsley when I walk up to him. He looks up at me. I stand on tiptoes and place a kiss on his cheek.

"I hope you are well Nymphadora."

That's it. After what just happened, and that's what he says to me.

"No better than usual, excuse me."

I fly out of there and find Albus Dumbledore. I have to keep it together a little bit longer. Unfortunately, a tear leaks down my cheek slowly. Damn.

He wipes it away. I look away, and up to regain myself. I compose myself and even manage a chuckle. He says, "since you have scavenged some free time…"

That lifts me up just a little.


	2. Chapter 2

I find myself in the same spot, Mike's Tavern, nursing a drink. It's the same as the last time I felt overwhelmed, and that I had something to hide. I don't have anything exactly to hide; well, except myself.."

The seat next to me becomes occupied by my previous companion, of the previous time.

"I didn't know I threw out an invitation," I say, eyes ahead, but even then I know the look on his face.

"I didn't know you owned the tavern," he retorts back sarcastically.

"I'm surprised. I never expect you to frequent a Muggle establishment."

"I knew you'd be here."

"Well aren't you perceptive," I reply lamely.

The bartender comes over. He orders a drink. I'm still nursing mine. I order a shot though.

"Well you aren't, otherwise you wouldn't be pouring yourself over your glass."

"If you're here to tell me something I already heard, then the door is over there. I'm not interested. My opinion isn't going to change, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat." I down the rest of my drink, and the shot that is placed right in front of me.

He takes a sip out of the drink that is placed in front of him. He has a long scratch across his knuckles. He must've needed 'blood of evil' for one of his Potions.

Maybe he needs more. According to others, my veins must contain 'blood of evil.'

"I'm not here to tell you that."

My head is really starting to feel fuzzy. I rest my elbows on the bar so I don't fall over. My neck feels stiff. It should just snow already. It was forecasted to start snowing tonight, and yet it hasn't.

"Do you want to spend the night with me again? I'm all for it." I offer. I don't know why I feel embarrassed, because any sort of "decency" between us has already gone out the window. I'm not having an affair, or anything. I'm still single, and from the looks of things, that's how its going to stay.

He gives a small nod of agreeance. At least I wont be alone tonight. I won't be any good either. I'll probably just pass out on the bed.

The lights dim, the twinkle lights go on, and the Christmas music starts up. Déjà vu.

Couples get up to dance. Someone starts singing. Badly. Everyone is having a good time when all I want is quiet and dull. I don't need another reminder that not only am I ruining my life, but I'm not having any fun either. Well, I did have fun and its sort of ruining my life.

I look sideways at him to gauge his emotions, and there are none as usual. He sips from his glass.

I take a drink. "Do you want to leave now?" I question, "we can go somewhere else. Somewhere qui-"

"No." He says. He modestly looks over his shoulder to gauge the room. He turns back. If he wants to go dance with a beautiful woman I will not stop him. I can get back to my sulking, drink some more, and then stumble home. Even if I only get to the hallway that's okay too.

I call the bartender over, order another shot. He must feel pity on me because he pours me a double, gets me another drink, questions if he wants another one; he does, and walks away.

I down it, but it goes down wrong. I cough for a second until I am able to wash it down with my drink. My belly feels full now. I better cool it for a little while.

"Is this your favorite song?" I question, "because it sure as hell isn't mine."

"I don't care about the song. I'm just trying to figure out how oblivious you can be. I know from past experien-"

"Exactly my point!" I rise from my chair, stumble as I look for money, and use one hand for support. He halts my searching. "Sit down Nymphadora. Please. For both our sake."

The bartender's eyes watch us from down the way. He's probably assessing the situation, and whether he should step in or not.

"Give me a good reason why I should sit down?" I don't know what the volume of my voice is, but no one has noticed over the tone of their conversations, the music and their good time.

"Because I have not finished my drink," he says only loud enough for me to hear, "and you are going to cause a scene that will get us both kicked out. Besides, I still haven't said what you need to hear- before you pour yourself over one more drink that will drive you over the edge."

We lock eyes. I'm still standing because I know I need to sit down slowly. Also, I'm pretty sure I'm already over the edge.

"Okay," I reluctantly agree. I sit down slowly, and face the bar. I rest my elbows down. My head is a spinning just slightly. I can float on air, and still have my feet grounded on the floor.

Maybe not me.

He takes a sip. He doesn't make a face, but I can tell its not the best drink he's ever had. Maybe its just his "go to" drink when he's doing something evil- with the knuckle blood.

He eyes the room again, subtly, and then the bartender. He must deem my situation safe, because he engages in conversation with a couple to my left. They're both drunk and laughing just a little too loud.

I wish that was me.

"Okay, talk to me now. Tell me what I need to hear. I need to hear something apparently, and it's not what I heard lately."

My sentence turns his lips into a smirk. I don't think I have ever seen that reaction from him before. It must b because I made a fool out of myself.

"You have a gift-"

It must be Christmas, if I am getting a compliment from Professor Snape.

"-a gift that only a few have. Out of all my years of teaching, I've only met two- with you being the only one that can control it and use it."

I snort. It's very unladylike, but I don't care. "Hence, my mini vacation." I eye his glass. His hands wrap around it.

The couple's laughter erupts again. A cheerful song strikes up. I don't know the words, and I'm not going to sing along. I tap my nails against the bar.

He turns in my direction and looks directly into my soul. His eyes squint with distaste. "You're obviously oblivious."

"Then spell it out!" I burp into my fist, and my belly feels better. I must be full of hot air.

"Why. Were. You. Being. Followed." His eyes cast around while he pronounces every word. It's a room full of Muggles. No one is going to know us or know what we do.

"Because I associate myself with people like you." I smirk.

"Who exactly knows that?"

He's got me there. Some fog clears. In my head. Not much. But the airiness of the liquid confidence is going to slowly evaporate.

"No one. No one knows anything. They speculate. I come from an interesting background, and very interesting people." Who they should really be chasing after.

"So that makes you-"

"The target around the office." I recall the situation at the Ministry and smirk upon my victory.

The bartender comes over. "Anything else ma'am?"

"No, thank you."

He declines anything else as well.

When the bartender walks away he shakes his head. He removes the band from his hair. He ruffles it out, but its limp and lifeless. "He only came over here to make sure you were okay. Pointless. Let's walk. You need air."

"Great." I stand up slowly. I'm a little wobbly- at least I want to believe that. I hold out my arm. "Care to escort?"

He doesn't say anything. He hooks his arm with mine, and steers me out. We take the repeated path of last year. He lets go, and we walk slowly, side by side.

"What was so pointless about the bartender checking up on me?" I question.

"You don't need it. He doesn't see what you don't see."

"What is that?"

"The reason you were followed, the reason they fear you. You're powerful! That's what you are not seeing! You bring out their worst fears. You can do something they cannot. Your unpaid suspension is proof. You pulled a fast one which gave you a victory over their suspicions."

"And if I worked hard to be where I am, they should know that I'm not going anywhere, and I have nothing to hide—well mostly. Thank you for breaking me of my misery. I don't need to worry about their scrutiny anymore."

He just shakes his head. "Keep your eyes on the papers, things are only going to get worse for you."

"I know, but when has it ever been easy for me? Actually don't answer that. I don't want to change the direction your words have steered me in."

"I'll just sit back and watch you self destruct."

I shake my head this time. "No matter how many times I fall down, I always get back up. I just needed a hand this time, one that wasn't shoving me down, but actually lifting me up."

I just cant believe it is him.

Thanks for reading! Merry Christmas!


End file.
